Who is your real hero?

This story can be very triggering to self harmers, or people dealing with depression.

Bree is dealing with some very tough things, that she tries so hard to escape. Who will be her hero? Will she have a prince to save her, or will she die trying to be happy?

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2. Black and white.

Every time you wake up, and you know there are a few new, fresh cuts on your wrists, you get disappointed in yourself. You wonder why you’re such a failure, and you wonder why you can’t be strong enough to be happy. While most other victims of depression are angry with happy people, or envy them, I’m not and I don’t. I own a deep respect for happy people. They manage to be in peace with themselves; they manage to see the good in everything. If that’s not something to respect, I don’t know what is.

 

I decided, 2 weeks before this, to fight. I couldn’t bow down to the orders I was told. I couldn’t kneel anymore. I’d kneeled so much my knees were all flesh. I had to fight back. But then there were days like these, where you felt hopeless, and just had to kneel down, even though it harmed you. In those 2 weeks I hadn’t come far. To be honest, I think I’d fallen down even more. This just gave me more reasons to be disappointed, and more reasons to hate myself and everything else. My dad hadn’t been home the past week, which was a relief. My mum had, which was a relief too. I hadn’t played with Felicity the past 2 weeks. I also hadn’t walked with him for 2 weeks. All I had done was being in school, going home and that was it. I didn’t have any friends to hang out with. I tried to be nice to people, sometimes I even smiled to them in the hallways, but they ignored me.

A few days ago I had sat in class. The girl next to me saw a cut on my wrist. “Have you cut yourself?” she had whispered, like it was something totally abnormal. She had fear in her eyes, and so had I. I had been so scared. I didn’t answer, all I did was look at her, and then look at my paper with doodles all over it. I didn’t know how to react. I continued to doodle aimlessly.

That day I went home being so frustrated. Everybody thought I was disgusting now. Cutting your own skin? That’s just plain out gross. That was why I didn’t have any friends.

It was cold outside and leaves were flying crazily around in the sky. I liked watching them from my window in my room.

Why were people depressed, it was 2013, there should be medication for things like this; medications that actually work.

 

Well, that morning I looked at my phone as the first thing in the morning; I usually did that. I saw a text message, this time not from my parents, which was kind of a big shock to me.

I know it’s weekend, but when can we go for a walk again? E. xxx’ he had written. My heart was rapidly pumping thick liquids around my veins, making me feel more alive than I had in the past week or so. It was from Ellard.

 Did he miss me? Did he miss our walks? Did he really-

“Mornin’ princess,” my dad interrupted my thoughts. He was a gross old man. “Morning,” I answered quickly, wanting him to leave my room.

“I missed you while I was gone,” he smiled. I smiled and nodded, trying convincing him I was happy. “Wanting me to leave?” He chuckled, and I nodded again. “Alright, alright,” the man mumbled.

He wasn’t my real dad, so I didn’t like him. My sister wasn’t my real sister either. They were both faking. I wasn’t even sure if my mum was real anymore. I looked at my phone again. What should I answer him? Should I just go ‘Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Do we meet the normal place? Bree’. No, that’d be too relaxed and weird. I wanted to be cool and not desperate. I discussed with myself what to write back for the next 15 minutes, and ended up writing, ‘Okay. Today? Xx Bree’. Right after I’d sent it I felt like an idiot, because it was so stupidly and poorly written.

I couldn’t wait to walk with him and see his polished, black shoes. I couldn’t wait to walk on the fields with wind blowing everything around, making everything seem wild and alive. Those moments were the only moments I felt free and just a bit happy.

He was flawless, and to be honest I didn’t get why he wanted to walk with me. I’m pretty sure he could get any girl he wanted, pretty easily. My phone vibrated and I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. I opened up his text message, ‘Yes. See you at 10am, Bree. E. xxx’.  A smile automatically landed on my face, he really wanted to see me. Maybe I was a bit important to him? I hoped I was. I wanted to be.

 

I looked at my clock, which was ticking above my door. It was ticking as every second went; constantly reminding me how fast life goes by. A constant reminder that time never comes back to you, it will always leave you.

9am. An hour left. I needed to take a very quick shower and throw some clothes on. I hurried, and tried to put some proper mascara on my too short eyelashes. It looked fine. I looked at the ticking bomb, also called a clock, and it was 3 minutes to 10. I walked out onto the street in front of my house and sucked the fresh air down into my lungs. After being sheltered in my room for a long time, fresh air was very… refreshing. I waited a minute or two, before seeing his beautiful face at the end of the road, surrounded by too big and pretty houses; all black and white. As he neared me his sharp jawline, which had cut holes in my heart, appeared more and more. His cheekbones were visible as well. Mine weren’t, I had pink, chubby cheeks. His sweatshirt was grey and wine red. When his black, polished shoes reached the asphalt, his sweater would jump a little, showing a bit, pale skin. My skin was paler though. I don’t know why I kept comparing myself to him, I just felt kind of lucky that he’d chosen me to walk with, and I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand very many things.

“Hey, I’ve missed you,” he said. His voice was soft and silent. When I listened to it, it felt like I was laying down on a bed with silk, naked. It felt like being really dirty and gross, and then taking a hot bath, letting the tears of the shower stream down your vulnerable scarred skin.

I liked his voice. 

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